


and if we don't have a future (just leave your autograph)

by kalkalash12



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (but you can decide), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Famous Iwaizumi Hajime, Fluff, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Teacher Sugawara Koushi, snapshots of oisuga's relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalkalash12/pseuds/kalkalash12
Summary: in which Iwaizumi’s fame has caused problems in Oikawa's love life before, so he's not sure how long this Sugawara Koushi's gonna last
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Sawamura Daichi, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 124





	and if we don't have a future (just leave your autograph)

**Author's Note:**

> hello!
> 
> this is my first work into the haikyuu fandom so i would love to hear any feedback that you have for this fic so that i could improve! thank you for reading!

Iwaizumi hasn’t met a date of Tooru’s in _ages._

It’s not in character for both of them. Oikawa is the type to show off his partners and Iwaizumi is the type to slowly die from it. So when Oikawa announces that he’s been seeing someone new for about 6 months in the midst of an _Alien_ rerun, Iwaizumi is shocked that he hadn’t noticed. He lives with him for Christ’s sake, and though they don’t spend as much time together lately, he’s upset that he hasn't noticed something so important. 

“Name?” 

Oikawa _takes his eyes off of his favorite movie ever_ and glares. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll run a background check on him, interrogate all his friends, and go to his school--”

“So he’s a teacher!” Imaizumi exclaims. His brain is already speeding through their network of friends, trying to think of a male teacher on the cuter side because he’s sure of Oikawa’s type. His thoughts lurch to a stop though when Oikawa clears his throat. 

“You don’t know him.”

“Do you? Are you sure that it’s nothing like--” Iwaizumi stops, letting the unsaid name hang between them, his buried guilt rearing its head once more. But to his surprise, Oikawa softens. 

“It wasn’t your fault. And besides, I trust him. And you will too.”

▶

Iwaizumi doesn’t trust him. 

Granted, Iwaizumi still hasn’t met him yet; he’s due to meet him in about 15 minutes if Oikawa sticks to his trait of tardiness. But nothing will change Iwaizumi’s mind, not even if _‘Koushi’_ is a pretty, kind, unassuming first-grade teacher that has eyes of an angel and a pastel yellow aura of softness. 

(It’s _exactly_ what Koushi is). 

The moment that the door opens, there’s a moment of revelation that surrounds both Iwaizumi and Koushi. Iwaizumi’s eyebrows raise at the fact that his imagination has apparently manifested exactly what he’s thought while the other’s mouth drops as he takes in Iwaizumi’s face as one he’s probably seen plastered everywhere to that damn fruit snack ad. 

He glances at Oikawa to see what he makes of the situation, only to find his pupils shaking between the two of them. So, he’ll be no help here. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” he says, stretching out his hand. Koushi takes it gently as if Iwaizumi might crumble, but sucks in under his breath when he finally returns the greeting. 

“Oh,...Oh, _wow_ ,” Koushi murmurs. Iwaizumi’s already pursing his lips expecting him to do something embarrassing like flirt with him or worse, propose a threesome among them, both of which have occurred too many times for Iwaizumi to keep count. But before Iwaizumi can put out a scathing remark, Koushi has already overcome his initial shock and smiles a little _too_ brightly at Oikawa’s pale face. 

“I’m gonna murder you later.” 

Oikawa almost immediately sags. 

Iwaizumi now understands why Oikawa was ready to shit his pants earlier. 

He quickly ushers Koushi in as a tepid flame of interest flares in his chest. 

“You know, I’m actually a huge fan,” Suga starts, gripping the back of the sofa for support. _Fuck._ When Iwaizumi used to hear that at the start of his rise, every word would make him feel the blood rushing through his veins, giving him the best flood of endorphins. Now, he warily watches Suga as a feeling of disappointment settles neatly between his lungs. 

“Want an autograph or something?” Iwaizumi growls. 

Suga tilts his head at him, lips pressed, clearly sensing that he’s hit a nerve. “No…” he states, “I don’t want one.”

Iwaizumi can only stare as Suga pushes forward. “You know Oikawa didn’t leave me completely in the dark. He took me to places I knew that he could never afford so I was able to weasel out of him that his best friend was famous. He told me that your identity caused him some problems before…” Suga trails, hard eyes finally looking back up at Iwaizumi. “It was his last couple of relationships, right?” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, just gives him a short nod in confirmation. 

Suga sighs resigned. “Tooru acts like he’s the absolute shit but he has insecurities, and I think this...This is one of them, so...No. I don’t want an autograph. Not until I think it’s the last time that I’ll ever see you. Deal?” 

It’s not the first time that Iwaizumi suspects that there’s more behind the flower boy persona by noting the glint of hardness in Suga’s eyes but it still manages to take him off guard. “Deal,” he relents, crossing his arms. 

Suga, who has now said his part and realizes exactly _who_ he has said it to ( _Japan’s It Boy_ , he’s being called these days), seems to sink at the weight of Iwaizumi’s gaze and scurries back to the kitchen with a muttered remark about helping Oikawa wash up. The sight causes Iwaizumi to chuckle, a chuckle that makes it into a full-fledged laugh as he processes their markedly one-sided conversation which had managed to assuage all of Iwaizumi’s fears. 

Huh, seems like Oikawa’s done well this time around. 

▶

Iwaizumi has had the privilege of mitigating Oikawa’s breakdowns since high school, but the older Oikawa gets, the harder it becomes to get his head screwed back on straight. Oikawa has an incredible talent for relapsing into old insecurities and melding them with new ones which eventually becomes a clusterfuck to deal with. So, he isn’t exactly surprised at Suga’s phone call in hushed tones. 

“He’s not _himself_ ,” Suga stresses. “I know that he puts up his little front of immaturity, but this is just… something completely different.” 

Iwaizumi sighs, knowing exactly what Suga is referring to. “Suga, he’s just scared that he’ll be replaced.”

“That’s bullshit! He’s on the starting lineup!”

“You know that and I know that, but why do you think he hated Kageyama like that?”

Suga huffs but doesn’t say another word. His worry is horribly palpable over the line and forces Iwaizumi to assure him with sweet nothings. 

“It will be fine, Suga. I’ll talk to him tomorrow and it should be ok.”

It wasn’t ok. The sight of Suga at his front door that night itself, soaking from the rain. There could only be one reason for it. 

He only quietly sighs, letting Suga in, not surprised that Oikawa’s latest tantrum has led Suga here. He figures a half-hour of reminiscing will give Suga the confidence to stick it through and sets about getting a blanket and a warm cup of tea and bringing it to the sofa that Suga’s chosen to meld himself into. 

Suga doesn’t look up when Iwaizumi sits back in his little corner of the sofa, so he pats Suga’s knee, gaining his attention. 

_Fuck._ Iwaizumi has only known Suga for about six months and has never pegged him as someone that could cry easily. Oikawa must have fucked up--

“He left for Argentina without telling me.”

_Really fucking badly._

“What?” is all Iwaizumi can put out. 

“I just... thought he should take it easy in the pre-season, let the younger ones play more while he stayed here and got treated.” Suga pauses, sniffling. “And he just exploded on me, asking me if I wanted him to lose his starting position.” He shakes his head, a stray arm emerging from the blanket to wipe away tears. “We were just circling back to the same argument so I went to work, thinking we’d talk it out later, but--”

Iwaizumi sucks in a deep breath, remembering that Mattsun and Makki drove Oikawa to the airport during their lunch break and thinking that it was probably just because Suga couldn't get away from school. 

“There wasn’t even a note. His stuff was just _gone_.”

“That _Shittykawa.”_ Iwaizumi growls. “I’m gonna fucking kill him when he gets back.”

Suga looks at him through watery eyes. “You look so _mad.”_ He whispers. “I thought you’d--”

Iwaizumi furrows his brows as he manages to complete Suga’s unspoken thought. “Why would I be mad at you? Fucking Oikawa thinks he’s some damsel and runs away from his problems, not thinking of what that’ll do to the people he’s left behind.” Iwaizumi feels another, a _stronger_ flare of anger erupt in him and hits the back of his neck. “Oh, I get angrier the more I think about it. That _bitch._ ”

Iwaizumi looks up to see more tears falling out of Sugawara’s eyes, hands unmoving in his lap surrendering to the onslaught. 

“Uhh, Suga--”

“I thought you would hate me for sending your friend away.”

“The only thing I hate right now is not being able to stop him,” Iwaizumi sighs and rubs his forehead. Suga sniffles in response. 

They’re quiet now. Iwaizumi lets Suga take some time to compose himself as he wonders how he can make any of this right, short of getting on a plane to Argentina and slapping the bastard up the head himself. 

An infomercial for a copper pan that apparently can cook anything perfectly by itself with no human help is playing on the TV when the Suga speaks again. 

“Guess I’ll be taking that autograph now.”

Iwaizumi frowns before the memory of first meeting Suga murkily reappears in his head, and the implications of his words become clear to him. “You might be a bigger idiot than Oikawa.” 

Suga pouts further, pulling his blanket all the way up to his eyes. “Stop that; I’m in pain. My boyfriend just left me.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and pulls his right leg up on the sofa, pivoting toward Suga. “Look,” he starts, “in a few days, when Oikawa is in Argentina and he realizes that he’s made the worst mistake of his life, he’ll _absolutely_ come back.”

Big grey eyes blink owlishly at him. 

“I _promise._ ” Iwaizumi stresses. “Or else I’ll personally drop off the autograph. Just give my idiot best friend three to five business days.”

A lone hand travels out from under the blanket, just the pinky outstretched. Iwaizumi takes it without hesitation. 

▶

Iwaizumi mockingly pouts as he lets Oikawa into his apartment. “So you only remember me when Suga’s kicked you out of the house, huh?”

Oikawa snorts as he makes his way straight to the fridge, hand simply diving into the right of the third shelf where his favorite drink will always stand even if he doesn’t live here anymore. That departure had occurred after the Argentina scandal eight months ago, when Iwaizumi had woken to Oikawa leaning over him face taut with determination. 

_“I’m moving in with Koushi.” he’d said determinedly._

_Groggily, Iwaizumi had replied, “Congrats. Now get the fuck out of my room.”_

When Iwaizumi had actually arisen for the day, he came out of his room only to find Oikawa scrambling over three open cardboard boxes and the living room looking more full than it usually was. Then, he had sighed and dialed the moving company that he's always used. 

“Don’t sound so jealous, Hajime. You know I’ll always love you.”

Iwaizumi snorts back when he hears those words, pulling out his own preferred drink and trying to ignore the early time that’s glaring at him from the top of the oven. He sits across Oikawa at his little breakfast nook, taking a swig of his bottle as he does so. 

“The stalking’s gotten worse, huh?’ he says, as he places the bottle in front of him. 

Oikawa takes in a deep breath. “They’ve found his school. And there are double the reporters, now that we’ve confirmed the dating reports. Shouldn’t they turn the fuck down?”

“They’re only hoping to catch a glimpse of you.” 

Oikawa slumps back in his chair, tilting his bottle side to side so it clinks on the desk. “He used to smile when he saw me.”

Iwaizumi tsks. “He said he wanted to come out. He knew the consequences.”

“I think he’s starting to regret it,” Oikawa whispers.

“Ughh. Both of you always talk to me and never to each other.” Iwaizumi sighs and rolls his eyes. “No, he is not regretting it. Don’t just come to your own conclusions.”

“He told you that?”

Iwaizumi hums. “Last night.”

“So he talks to you, tells you how he feels?”

“He would do the same for you if you just listened instead of running away like a scared cat!”

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him before draining the rest of his bottle instead of replying. _Coward._ Iwaizumi reaches for the empty bottle knowing that Oikawa won’t throw it away properly but is stopped when he grabs his wrist. 

“What now, Shittykawa?”

“I know about your autograph deal.”

Iwaizumi tries to be surprised. “Since when?”

“Oh, I don't know. Koushi blabbed about it when he was drunk one night.”

“Well, that’s between me and him.”

“I’m not asking you to change your deal. I’m just trying to say that if he wants the autograph--”

“Give it to him. I know.”

Oikawa tilts his head, mouth slack. “You agreed too quickly.”

Iwaizumi shakes off the hand that’s still holding him captive and lifts his bottle to his lips. “He’s not just your boyfriend; he’s my friend.”

Oikawa’s eyes soften, then slide down at the table. “Fuck. And I really liked him too.”

Iwaizumi lets his right leg fly and watches unfeelingly when Oikawa’s eyes fill with tears. 

“What the fuck, Hajime?!” he asks, cradling his leg. “I need to play volleyball with this leg!”

“He hasn’t left yet,” Iwaizumi starts, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, “And you ‘like’ him _now._ So I’m not sure why you aren’t off your sorry ass and with him.” Iwaizumi takes on an evil smirk as a new idea starts within. “Or maybe you finally want to start dating me?’

Oikawa dramatically grabs at his ears, attempting to tear them off his head. 

“Tsk. You might need your ears to play volleyball too,” Iwaizumi singsongs. Oikawa halts his performance and throws him a dirty glare, though it slowly wanes away.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa starts slowly. Iwaizumi almost jumps because he hasn't heard that nickname in a long time, not since Suga once got drunk and complained about how Oikawa never gave _him_ any cute names. (Twenty long years he worked to get that name out of Oikawa’s mouth and Suga accomplishes it with a few bottles of peach sake in him). 

“Thank you,” Oikawa whispers.

Iwaizumi hears everything that’s unsaid in it. “Sure, brat.”

“Oi!”

▶

It’s all very simple. Iwaizumi can instantly tell that all of the decisions were single-handedly made by Sugawara by the lack of gaudy features until his eyes catch onto a cutout of the happy couple and a flower arch at the altar.

He supposes Sugawara had to make concessions somewhere. 

There’s no one in the lobby, just the way Iwaizumi had wanted it. Oikawa and Suga had protested this late arrival but Iwaizumi would not budge. This was not his day; it was his two favorite peoples’ and he would not let anything detract from them, not even his presence. He’d assured Oikawa and Sugawara that they’d see him the second that they started walking down the aisle and he intends to keep that promise as soon as he gets a clue of where he should be. 

He catches sight of Daichi, Sugawara’s best man, pacing in front of a side door and assumes that he could probably get his answer right about there. 

Daichi looks up at the sound of his footsteps, the lines on his face quickly smoothing over before a tinge of pink appears briefly on his cheeks. Iwaizumi’s brain immediately pounces on that tell but stores it away for later as Daichi roughly pats him on the back.

“I was getting worried! But now that you’re here, we’re all set!”

“Hello to you too, Daichi. But I think that I’m on time?’

“Yes, but you’d get worried too, what with Suga and Oikawa equally being bridezillas,” Daichi says, as he pulls him into the side room. Iwaizumi spots Oikawa’s sister beside the tall giant Asahi and Takeru excitedly gesturing to an older man with glasses. 

At Iwaizumi’s confused look, Daichi almost immediately answers. “Takeda Ittetsu, our high school volleyball advisor.” While Iwaizumi’s processing that answer, Daichi hooks an arm around Iwaizumi’s elbow and gives him a shark-like grin. 

Iwaizumi’s breath stops. He doesn’t even notice the rest of the occupants of the room lined up, nor the start of a string quartet playing a distant wedding march.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

They’re all shit drunk not even four hours later, even the happy couple, but Iwaizumi is sure that their intoxication is due to something a bit different. Maybe it’s on the promise of tomorrow together or the conviction of their love for one another, but regardless, Iwaizumi yearns to get just a sip of it for himself. 

He looks down to his right shoulder, where Daichi is sleeping off three peach bellinis and five cranberry vodkas. He thinks that he could find it there, but it was going to have to wait, as he had something for the newlyweds. Carefully, he slips Daichi’s head off his shoulder and lays him on the sofa that they had both claimed before walking over to them. 

Suga’s leaning on Oikawa’s shoulder, mouth stretched into a wild smile while Oikawa’s undoubtedly saying something ridiculously stupid to him. His eyes slide to Iwaizumi while his lips curl into something more mischievous. 

“Looks like you’re quite the pillow.” 

Oikawa snorts. “Only for bulky, upstanding police officers.” They both take a look at each other and burst into giggles. 

_Fucking made for each other,_ Iwaizumi thinks, but pulls out a chair to sit on anyway. “Shut it! Do you want your wedding gift or not?”

Oikawa immediately puts his palms together, rubbing them in forgiveness. “Sorry! What did you get us then? A trip, an apartment?”

“You could afford those things yourself, dumbass,” Iwaizumi scoffs, as he reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a thick envelope and places it on the table between them. Suga immediately grabs for it but Oikawa is still looking at him. 

“Yeah, of course, I could afford it. But do you know how sweet it is to use your friend’s money to buy things for yourself?”

“Couldn’t tell you-- you’ve never bought anything for me.’

“Hajime, I’m gonna fuckin--!’

“ _Hajime,”_ Suga whispers, as his fingers still ruffle through the photos. “What is all this?”

“Ah, well…” Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck, “those are autographs. In every photo we’ve taken together.” 

It really is. Iwaizumi spent hours scouring for pictures on his phone and texted multiple group chats tracking specific images he knew Suga would want to have and sat down and printed them all. At first, he was just signing them all, but as the night progressed and sleep and sake started to get the best of his decision making, some pictures had a random commentary that was useless. 

Suga and Oikawa stare open-mouthed at him and it only forces Iwaizumi to keep talking, even though all he wants to do is be back beside Daichi and not have to deal with any of this.

“Well, when we first met, you said that you wanted an autograph when you thought it would be the last time you would see me.”

Suga slowly nods, encouraging. Iwaizumi sort of feels like one of the five-year-olds that he teaches, but is loath to admit that the gesture helps. 

“But now I’m giving you all the autographs because I think, or I’d like to think that I’ll be seeing you for the rest of my life, beside Oikawa’s side, no matter what. So when’s better than now to pay up?” He awkwardly chuckles. 

If Iwaizumi knew that heartfelt confessions were a surefire way to get these two to shut up, he might have done it a long time ago. But, for exactly once in his lifetime, this is precisely the moment that he does not want them to keep their stupid traps closed. He gently nods, hoping it’ll encourage them to say anything, but his hopes quickly begin to wane when the two stay mute, eyes traveling over the pictures instead. 

“I’m just gonna go.” Iwaizumi mutters and berates himself for ever thinking this gift would mean something and hopes that the trip to Malta (for which the tickets will appear in their mailbox tomorrow) will do a better job at being a wedding gift. He quickly navigates through a maze of chairs to a now awake, but still sort of fuzzy Daichi which is a rather consoling sight. Daichi gives him a wide smile, eyes all scrunched up and Iwaizumi can’t help but smile back. 

“What was that all about?” Daichi asks as he shifts so that Iwaizumi can sit next to him. As soon he does, Daichi drapes himself all over him like he never left, chin perching on his shoulder. 

“Nothing.” Iwaizumi says, shaking his head, but still keeping his eyes on Daichi’s warm ones. “Just a shitty wedding gift.”

Daichi makes a questioning noise as he shifts his face so as to look into the crowd; Iwaizumi doesn’t follow, too focused on how close he gets to see Daichi’s _profile_. “You sure it was really that bad?”

Iwaizumi furrows his brows at that statement and when understanding arrives, whips his neck to where Oikawa and Sugawara still are, huddled together with wide smiles but contradictory tears. Those _fuckers!_ Making him stew when he was in front of them but sobbing when he turned away. The sight should make him angry but against all reason, he chuckles, and, _and_ he snuggles closer to Daichi. 

(He ignores Daichi’s surprised look; Iwazumi’s done pretending he can’t see through his every move.) 

“Guess not.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know how you feel by kudos or comments!


End file.
